Once upon a time, in the many-fabled land of Nost’Kare’, there lived a crafty old summoner named Zul-Amun al-Khalid. In the pursuit of his magikal power and accumulation of lores mysterious and obscure, he learned of a deck of fortune-telling cards that could be used to summon forth creatures to do his bidding. The hows and why are not important to this tale (and, I confess, I do not know them myself), but it should suffice to know that old al-Khalid found many of the cards of this deck, and mastered their secrets. Over the years since their creation - and none living can say how many years - the cards of this deck were scattered across the many realms and domains of Xaria.
The summoner grew wealthy and prosperous through the use of the Servants of the Cards. Such was his influence that he married into a branch of the Ka’jeh’s family and sired many children with his wives and concubines. But even riches and luxury cannot appease Death, and eventually the summoner was claimed by old age.
The summoner’s eldest son, Rafeem abd-Zul, inherited all of his father’s wealth - except for his wisdom, which he scorned. Rafeem was spoiled, having from birth enjoyed the luxuries of the rich without ever having to learn the price of its acquisition. He thought little of the au’hairk he spent freely to indulge his whims and depraved passions, and even less than that of his slaves who labored to make his life comfortable. Such is often the way among the nobles of Nost’Kare’, and though I wish I could say that the summoner’s son was wickeder than any other, alas, I cannot.
The Servants of the Cards served Rafeem as faithfully as they had his father, though it must be remembered that while words have power, words are also flexible things, easily twisted. The Servants took offense at his abusive words, but even moreso by his indifference toward what had been his father’s consuming passion - the accumulation of the still missing Cards. They, like Rafeem’s many other slaves, resented their master and longed to be free of him. They bided their time and fulfilled his every petty request, concealing their spite behind obsequious smiles.
Then came the day when Rafeem’s foolishness and decadence got the best of him. While preparing for the Celebration of Manar at the Ka’jeh’s opulent Palace, Rafeem was approached by the Keystone, chief administrator of the Servants of the Cards. The Keystone was attending to the financial management of the abd-Zul affairs and estate. Keystone asked him to make many tedious decisions regarding how they should be carried out, each more meticulous and quotidian than the last. At last Rafeem’s patience wore thin, as he wrestled with the decision to wear an ostrich-plumed silk turban or a pearl-beaded scarlet fez to the festivities, and he instructed the Keystone to see to the decisions himself.
“Am I to understand, dread Master, that you would have me resolve the unfinished affairs of the estate of abd-Zul?” the Keystone asked.
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” Rafeem sighed in exasperation. “Decide them however you see fit!” With a servile bow and a glint in his eyes, the Keystone left the arrogant nobleman’s presence.
O hearken unto wisdom, gentle listener, and do not turn away the counsel of the elderly, for that was the mistake of the summoner’s son. As I have said, words have power, and so accustomed to his own name had Rafeem abd-Zul become that he forgot “abd-Zul” means “servant of Zul”. The Keystone had gained his master’s permission to resolve the unfinished affairs of Zul-Amun’s servant in whatever manner he saw fit. Who could argue that the Keystone and all the Servants of the Cards had not been the servants of Zul-Amun? And who could claim that the location of the missing Cards was not Zul-Amun’s unfinished affair? In order to resume the search for the Cards, a new master would need to be found; one who would possess the motivation to carry on the old summoner’s work.
It so happened that the Keystone knew of one nameless slave among the many in Rafeem’s household, a quiet man from northern lands whose silence hid a seething desire to escape. When Rafeem’s master of slaves purchased him from the flesh-market, he learned only that the young man had once had a brother and sister, but they had been sold to other masters. What he did not know was that they had originally been abducted from their late parents’ farm by Myerean bandits. He also did not know the young man’s name, and he had no desire to learn it. Such matters were beneath even his notice. He was placed within Rafeem’s domestic staff, often answering to the master’s need for trivial items. When Rafeem needed a quill for writing, as he often did, he would call out “Quill! Quill!” It was this slave’s responsibility to fetch such things, and when he was slow to respond, Rafeem would beat him mercilessly.
It is a terrible thing to have no identity. When one goes long enough without a name, when all is dark and one is alone, one begins to wonder if one really exists at all. So, to find some consolation, he considered his name to be “Quill.” That way, when his indifferent master cried out for a quill, it would feel as though he were being addressed by a name. And thus, the slave became Quill.
The Keystone had watched Quill for some time, and found in his heart the smouldering desire that would serve his purposes. He taught Quill all he knew of his old master, Zul-Amun al-Khalid, and of the Cards he had sought throughout the many days of his life. And with the things the Keystone showed him, Quill performed a ritual that made him the new Master of the Cards. After that, it was a small matter to rid the world of Rafeem abd-Zul forever. When a man is the master of loyal servants, his words become deeds, yet his hands remain always clean.
The details, though unpleasant, are not important. All that matters is that when Quill left the estate, he did so as a man without a master, and as a summoner, heir to Zul-Amun’s legacy. Few of the slaves of the late Rafeem adb-Zul dared escape with him, and those that did had mostly deserted his company before reaching the borders of the Ka’jeh’s dominion. Alone he made his way through the barbarian wilderness of Fer Garruth. Protected only by his summoned Servants did he survive the trek through the war-torn ruins of Halgudar. He fell deathly ill in the swamps of Hyrm-Chel, but was saved by the Keystone, who fetched the aid of a healer working in one of the Harborages of the Mother. Once he had recovered, Quill continued on to the great city of Kura’Stan. Here he learned that coin was hard-won by a man who had few skills but to be a common laborer, but that there were those who would pay handsomely for the services of a skilled thief, a potent magus, or even an administrative aide-de-camp. Quill became a middleman, the contact through whom such talents were hired, and since the Servants of the Cards had no need of coin, Quill retained the full profits of each venture. By this method did the slave establish his new role in the society of the barbarian West.
Now you have heard the whole of my tale; at least, the whole of it that I wish to tell. My name is not important. All you need know is that I am called Quill, that I am the Master of the Cards, and that I shall not rest until I find my sister, my brother, and, of course, the Cards of Zul-Amun.
May I have Keystone pour you some tea as you tell me all that you know?
The summoner grew wealthy and prosperous through the use of the Servants of the Cards. Such was his influence that he married into a branch of the Ka’jeh’s family and sired many children with his wives and concubines. But even riches and luxury cannot appease Death, and eventually the summoner was claimed by old age.
The summoner’s eldest son, Rafeem abd-Zul, inherited all of his father’s wealth - except for his wisdom, which he scorned. Rafeem was spoiled, having from birth enjoyed the luxuries of the rich without ever having to learn the price of its acquisition. He thought little of the au’hairk he spent freely to indulge his whims and depraved passions, and even less than that of his slaves who labored to make his life comfortable. Such is often the way among the nobles of Nost’Kare’, and though I wish I could say that the summoner’s son was wickeder than any other, alas, I cannot.
The Servants of the Cards served Rafeem as faithfully as they had his father, though it must be remembered that while words have power, words are also flexible things, easily twisted. The Servants took offense at his abusive words, but even moreso by his indifference toward what had been his father’s consuming passion - the accumulation of the still missing Cards. They, like Rafeem’s many other slaves, resented their master and longed to be free of him. They bided their time and fulfilled his every petty request, concealing their spite behind obsequious smiles.
Then came the day when Rafeem’s foolishness and decadence got the best of him. While preparing for the Celebration of Manar at the Ka’jeh’s opulent Palace, Rafeem was approached by the Keystone, chief administrator of the Servants of the Cards. The Keystone was attending to the financial management of the abd-Zul affairs and estate. Keystone asked him to make many tedious decisions regarding how they should be carried out, each more meticulous and quotidian than the last. At last Rafeem’s patience wore thin, as he wrestled with the decision to wear an ostrich-plumed silk turban or a pearl-beaded scarlet fez to the festivities, and he instructed the Keystone to see to the decisions himself.
“Am I to understand, dread Master, that you would have me resolve the unfinished affairs of the estate of abd-Zul?” the Keystone asked.
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” Rafeem sighed in exasperation. “Decide them however you see fit!” With a servile bow and a glint in his eyes, the Keystone left the arrogant nobleman’s presence.
O hearken unto wisdom, gentle listener, and do not turn away the counsel of the elderly, for that was the mistake of the summoner’s son. As I have said, words have power, and so accustomed to his own name had Rafeem abd-Zul become that he forgot “abd-Zul” means “servant of Zul”. The Keystone had gained his master’s permission to resolve the unfinished affairs of Zul-Amun’s servant in whatever manner he saw fit. Who could argue that the Keystone and all the Servants of the Cards had not been the servants of Zul-Amun? And who could claim that the location of the missing Cards was not Zul-Amun’s unfinished affair? In order to resume the search for the Cards, a new master would need to be found; one who would possess the motivation to carry on the old summoner’s work.
It so happened that the Keystone knew of one nameless slave among the many in Rafeem’s household, a quiet man from northern lands whose silence hid a seething desire to escape. When Rafeem’s master of slaves purchased him from the flesh-market, he learned only that the young man had once had a brother and sister, but they had been sold to other masters. What he did not know was that they had originally been abducted from their late parents’ farm by Myerean bandits. He also did not know the young man’s name, and he had no desire to learn it. Such matters were beneath even his notice. He was placed within Rafeem’s domestic staff, often answering to the master’s need for trivial items. When Rafeem needed a quill for writing, as he often did, he would call out “Quill! Quill!” It was this slave’s responsibility to fetch such things, and when he was slow to respond, Rafeem would beat him mercilessly.
It is a terrible thing to have no identity. When one goes long enough without a name, when all is dark and one is alone, one begins to wonder if one really exists at all. So, to find some consolation, he considered his name to be “Quill.” That way, when his indifferent master cried out for a quill, it would feel as though he were being addressed by a name. And thus, the slave became Quill.
The Keystone had watched Quill for some time, and found in his heart the smouldering desire that would serve his purposes. He taught Quill all he knew of his old master, Zul-Amun al-Khalid, and of the Cards he had sought throughout the many days of his life. And with the things the Keystone showed him, Quill performed a ritual that made him the new Master of the Cards. After that, it was a small matter to rid the world of Rafeem abd-Zul forever. When a man is the master of loyal servants, his words become deeds, yet his hands remain always clean.
The details, though unpleasant, are not important. All that matters is that when Quill left the estate, he did so as a man without a master, and as a summoner, heir to Zul-Amun’s legacy. Few of the slaves of the late Rafeem adb-Zul dared escape with him, and those that did had mostly deserted his company before reaching the borders of the Ka’jeh’s dominion. Alone he made his way through the barbarian wilderness of Fer Garruth. Protected only by his summoned Servants did he survive the trek through the war-torn ruins of Halgudar. He fell deathly ill in the swamps of Hyrm-Chel, but was saved by the Keystone, who fetched the aid of a healer working in one of the Harborages of the Mother. Once he had recovered, Quill continued on to the great city of Kura’Stan. Here he learned that coin was hard-won by a man who had few skills but to be a common laborer, but that there were those who would pay handsomely for the services of a skilled thief, a potent magus, or even an administrative aide-de-camp. Quill became a middleman, the contact through whom such talents were hired, and since the Servants of the Cards had no need of coin, Quill retained the full profits of each venture. By this method did the slave establish his new role in the society of the barbarian West.
Now you have heard the whole of my tale; at least, the whole of it that I wish to tell. My name is not important. All you need know is that I am called Quill, that I am the Master of the Cards, and that I shall not rest until I find my sister, my brother, and, of course, the Cards of Zul-Amun.
May I have Keystone pour you some tea as you tell me all that you know?
Cont'd
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